


Smutwalker

by IrisSteth



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Dom!Lena, Explicit Consent, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Gags, Implied Were Sex, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sub!Amelie, Sub!Lena, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, Voyeurism, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisSteth/pseuds/IrisSteth
Summary: A collection of NSFW Overwatch drabbles and thought experiments, often based off of topics touched in the WidowTracer or Overwatch Writer's Guild Discord channels that inspire me to respond through prose. Mostly unedited works - not always fully completed scenes but still interesting reads. Hope you enjoy!Note: Any context required to understand how a scene begins/ the 'what if' which inspired it, will be provided in notes before each chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: Arguments regarding if Lena could Top or not + Lena wanting to make Amelie feel good. Written in about 30 minutes while very tired.

Widowmaker her senses dulled and mind conditioned to focus only on her targets, her mission, her _kill_ \- had found day to day things agonizingly dull. She was quick and proficient and any wasted movement grated on her nerves though she would never let anyone know it.

Her life had become little more then blips if pleasure and dips of monotony and little else.

That is until she met Tracer.

The woman who moved faster then her scope could track - the only enemy whom could hold her interest.

It had taken them years to finally get where they are now. Living together in almost a sickeningly domesticated sort of way - but Lena loved it and Amélie didn't mind so long as Lena was there.

Her life had fallen into a different sort of routine - one almost as dull as the last, but there was one plus.

Lena was an absolute animal in the bedroom.

Amélie never needed to ask for what she wanted - instead Lena always seemed able to tell what she was not used to vocalizing.

But even still, Lena would find ways to make her talk.

"Say it," Lena would whisper, pausing long enough to stop suckling on the shell of her ear to allow the warmth of her breath to send shivers down Amélies spine.

Amélie would always hold back - she was conditioned not to crack under pain, she could handle being tortured but _this_ Talon had not conditioned her any responses for.

In these moments she had no programming to fall back on, just faint memories of a past life... And Lena's small but impossibly sturdy form.

In these moments she would hold Lena close and bite down on her bottom lip on as impossibly warm, strong hands danced their way up her back tracing the outline of each spiders leg before moving to rest a hand at the ink of her thigh, playing with the edge of her panties.

"I want you to _say it_."

The process would continue like this until every nerve in Amélie's body felt aflame. Until every stroke of Lena's hands or tongue along her skin would make her squirm, squeezing her thighs together until Lena nipped hard at the base of her neck and she knew better then to try and relieve the rapidly building pressure pooling between her legs. This could go on for hours if she wanted, minutes if she needed, and all her desires would be met the moment she whispered **_'oui'_**

Permission granted Lena would tug at her hair with one hand, pulling her head back so Lena could begin leaving bruising marks along her neck - while the other would move to cup her sex and apply the barest amount of friction there for her to grind into.

"Go on, get my hand nice and wet. Show me how much you want me inside you. Show me how badly you need me to make you _cum_."

Amélie would rut herself against Lena's fingers, her clit finding some sweet relief against Lena's wrist only for the hand to pull away leaving her spread wide, desperate and keening for the touch that had been taken away from her.

"Do you want this Amélie? Do you want _me_?"

The feeling of Lena spreading her legs further apart and the cool air against her wet core was like a slap. Indeed, perhaps there was a occasional swat to her back side, but she could never quite tell for any pain was mixed with the pleasure of the fingers that followed.

The digits met no resistance as the buried themselves deep inside her, pumping at an unrelenting speed that was just shy of painful yet still exactly what she needed so as to not lose herself entirely.

That is until those fingers curl, finding the spot inside her that makes her see stars as she breaks her silence once more to screams Lena's name.


	2. Subspace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired from 300 writers prompt book: "Where would you be pleased to find yourself locked up overnight"  
> Written in about 20 minutes and while very tired (seems to be a theme here).

Lena's favorite place to be is strung up by the hooks she and her lovers had installed into their bedroom ceiling.  
  
Tied up and dangling from them - the weight of her harness removed and replaced by the comforting bindings holding her up. Skillfully - no, the rope work was beyond mere skill - it was _masterfully_ done, and Lena felt she could stay as she was for hours (though her lovers would never risk such a thing).

Still, Lena watched helplessly as her girlfriends made out on the bed she could not join. The vibrator placed against (but not between! Damn them why couldn't it be between?!) her folds kicked into life and the gag in her mouth muffled her moan.

Struggling helplessly as she was teased but ultimately unable to move... There was a satisfaction she felt that she couldn't quite find words to express.

The closest she could get was the helplessness of it all - the pure utter rawness of her want and need and the sheer torture of its denial combined with her inability to do a damn thing about it (while also knowing in the back of her mind that she _could._ That Emily and Amélie would stop everything and come to her aid with a simple recognized code of grunts or a hand signal) was comforting.

This was her reality, her state of tranquility. It was _familiar_ and she knew deep down her release would come in due time.

Her struggle here was of patience, not of survival.


	3. Anahardt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not saying this is Ana and Reinhardt from Sing for Me, but I'm not NOT saying its Ana and Reinhardt from Sing for Me.
> 
> Written in about an hour from seemingly out of nowhere. Honestly this one surprised me and I have no excuse for. Hope you enjoy implied weres having sex.

He starts off gently - he _always_ does and Ana appreciates it (always has, even if when they were younger she would deny it) but digging her claws into his hips indicates she wants _more._

The growl Rein gives her sends shivers down her spine. He closes his mouth over her shoulder, not biting down hard - _yet-_ but keeping her firmly in place.

 Effortlessly he lifts her, pulling her towards him and making her cry out as he fills her completely. Even still, their hips are not flush. He is too long, too _thick,_ to bottom out against her in this position.

Reinhardt does not seem to care as he starts to find his rhythm.

Most men, Ana has found during her long and _adventurous_ sex life, focus on long strokes. Their lengths nearly exiting before pushing their way back in, but her beloved wolf is not like most men.

Reinhardt keeps his thrusts quick and deep, never pulling out to far. He once admitted softly to her after a night of passion it was because, in those moments, he could not bear the thought of losing the feel of her around him. The way his tip was squeezed as her walls fluttered, how he could practically feel her flesh beating in time with her heart, she was perfect.

He would be mad to lose out on that, even for a moment.

\---

Soon it is all Ana can do to hold on.

Reinhardt has known her long enough by now to tell when she is getting close.

He adjusts his thrusts, his teeth digging into her skin at her shoulder to add a touch of pain as he brings her closer and closer with each passing moment

She comes around him with a scream, her walls closing so tightly he growls out his pleasure - and though he adjusts his rhythm slightly he does not stop.

He guides her through her first orgasm and waits until she relaxes her grip on his back before releasing his teeth from her shoulder to press a kiss against the bruised flesh.

Before she can catch her breath he is lifting her up off the bed entirely, one large hand moving to support the back of her neck while the other comes to rest at the curve of her spine to help keep her steady as he shifts into a sitting position and lowers her the rest of the way down onto his shaft.

Reinhardt pauses then, his eyes closing as he relishes the sensation of being taken completely, their hips _finally_ flush.

Ana uses the moment to catch her breath. She has more control in this position, and starts to rock herself against him, smiling as she feels him twitch inside her. Reinhardt leans down to capture her lips in a kiss.

He starts to thrust, shallow and deep, once more - building up towards his own release as she rapidly approaches her second.

His climax comes with a small warning, a breathy and needy " _Soon_ ".

Ana knows it is her last chance to stop him, to allow him to pull out and spill his seed anywhere else but inside her.

It is a habit that, despite their time together, he has never been able to break. Ana loves him all the more for it and locks her legs around his back, her decision made clear.

She is ready for him when he bites down on her shoulder again, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm.

His release, so deep and warm inside her, sends her over the edge. The second of many more that evening.


End file.
